


Cottage Pie

by acalmingcupoftea



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 17:25:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5464832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acalmingcupoftea/pseuds/acalmingcupoftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened in the closet in 02x05 Murder a la Mode</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cottage Pie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saklani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saklani/gifts).



> Thanks to specialrhino & muffinpie77 for the beta~
> 
> Special thanks to [muffinpie77](http://www.muffinpie77.tumblr.com) for the sweet cover art  
> 

Jack knocked sharply on the door to Phryne’s house - toying with a new designation for her in his mind. He expected the tall and serious Mr. Butler, always a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips when he saw Jack on the doorstep, so he was surprised when Phryne herself answered the door.

“Why _hello_ Jack,” she said. “Do come in.” Phryne had draped herself against the doorframe, head thrown back as if in mid laugh.

Jack cleared his throat and replied, “Good evening Miss Fisher.” He took a moment to admire her outfit, untraditional but sensible black trousers and a black jacket. Her shoes were soft sole and flat, unusual for Phryne, who could scale a building in three-inch heels, but appropriate for the evening’s activities. And of course, everything fit her perfectly, drawing the eye to all the right places.

He brushed by her as he entered the house, their arms grazing. She shut the door behind him with a click.

“Mr. Butler & Dot just left,” Phryne said. “We have the house completely to ourselves.” She had that flash of mischievousness in her eye that always made Jack just a little nervous about what she was going to do next.

“Oh!” Suddenly, Phryne was upon him. “Let me take your coat, inspector. You’ll need your full range of motion for this evening.” Her hands barely pressed the tops of his shoulders as she slid the coat gently from his body, her fingers lingering a bit on his upper arms. Jack felt heat flush his neck and face at her touch.

Jack reached for his hat, intending to place it on the coat rack, but Phryne was too quick for him. She snatched it off his head and perched it on her own. She came around to face him and said, “What do you think? Is it the next thing in fashionable ladies wear?”

Jack felt himself smiling, his mind wandering to Phryne in nothing but this hat, the image helped along by her work as a fan dancer at the Imperial Club earlier this year.

“If anyone could bring about this new trend, it would be you Miss Fisher,” Jack replied. Phryne threw her head back and gave a chuckle as she placed both the coat and hat on the rack by the door.

The clock in the front parlor chimed nine o’clock.

“It appears we’re in for a long night, Inspector,” Phryne purred. “No one who’s anyone comes around to rob a house before at least 11pm. Whatever shall we do with ourselves?”

***

Jack was once again impressed at Phryne’s cribbage skills. She outmaneuvered him on the board at every turn. The cards, like Jack himself, were putty in her hands.

“Alright Miss Fisher, I don’t think I can take another beating like that.” Jack said, placing his cards on the table as Phryne moved her peg to the 121 mark on the board, winning the game. Jack’s piece was trailing some 20 marks behind, just in front of the skunk line. Jack wasn’t even surprised when she won anymore - at this point, he’d just learned to enjoy being along for the ride. 

Phryne smiled playfully, her hand on her neck.“I’m disappointed in you, Jack. I thought you’d be better by now.” This was not the first time Phryne had thoroughly trounced Jack in the card game.

The smile turned into a grin as Phryne glanced behind her at the clock on the mantle. It read four minutes after eleven.

“Oh! Now comes the fun part.” Phryne said, getting up and gesturing for Jack to follow.

Jack snapped from the relaxed mood Phryne always put him in, to that of the Detective Inspector that he was. He followed Phryne, slightly more aware than usual of his stylishly opulent surroundings. She positioned him at the foot of the stairs as she disappeared around the corner into the dining room.

Now that he was alone, Jack allowed his mind to work through the various ways this situation could turn out. One, the most obvious, was that she was going to tell him to wait upstairs while she monitored downstairs. Another option was that she was going to tell him to leave - the thief was obviously not going to come tonight.

There was one more option, the one that Jack thought of first but steadfastly ignored until he was forced to examine it. The one option that caused him to fidget with his tie uncomfortably. What if, the two of them were going to go upstairs to wait in Phryne’s bedroom...together? Jack shifted slightly from side to side as warmth crept up his face.

Lost in thought of how the evening could go, he didn’t notice Phryne’s return until she was right in front of him carrying, of all things, a picnic basket.

“Now, into the closet!” Phryne said, walking straight to the closet at the end of the hallway, picnic basket narrowly missing the telephone on the end table. Jack could do nothing but follow, the remnants of his imagined evening going up in smoke in his mind.

As they settled themselves, Jack asked, “Now why the closet, Miss Fisher?”

“Well,” Phryne said, placing the picnic basket between them, her knees touching Jack’s as she sat down, “this is the _most_ ingenious hiding place. We’ll be able to hear if anyone comes in the front or upstairs, as the hallway is right above this closet, and, most importantly, no one would think to look in a hall closet for priceless jewels! So our chances of being discovered are slim to none!”

It also had the added benefit, Jack thought, of placing the two of them in impossibly close quarters. All for the good of the case, of course.

Phryne was digging around in the picnic basket placing items of food all around them, which gave Jack a moment to contemplate her under the slight light coming from his flashlight. Phryne had always been beautiful to him, embodying everything the modern woman had to offer. From the moment he first met her in the bathroom at the Andrew’s manor, he knew that she was going to be trouble for him both professionally and personally.

They seem to have settled into a routine professionally (mostly because Jack had just finally caved and let her help on investigations), it really did make everything easier when you gave Phryne what she wanted - but they were still dancing around each other personally. While Jack was sure of his feelings for Phryne, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do about them. He wasn’t the kind of man to rush into anything nor was he the one-night-and-nothing-more kind of man that Phryne so often entertained. Was that all she wanted from the men in her life? Was that all she wanted from him? He couldn’t quite believe that, but as much as he thought he knew Phryne, she always surprised him with something.

“Aha!” Phryne exclaimed, triumphant. She held up a bottle of champagne and two glasses. 

Jack smirked as he said, “Ah, the perfect inclusion to a stakeout.”

Phryne rolled her eyes in mock indignation as she unwrapped the cork on top.

“Stakeouts, and really any police work, would be a lot more fun if champagne was involved.” She said, twisting off the metal cage protecting the cork and directing the bottle away from them. The cork came out with a dainty pop and Phryne set to filling both glasses.

“It was so nice of Dot to prepare this basket before she left for the evening,” Phryne said, her hand brushing against Jack’s, causing his heart to double its pace, as she handed him the glass.

Having completely forgotten the existence of the two other members of Phryne’s household, Jack asked, “So where did you send Dot and Mr. Butler?”

“Daylesford, of course,” Phryne said, as if it was obvious. “I always lie as little as possible.”

Jack gave Phryne an incredulous look - how many times had she lied to him about not involving herself in a case or where exactly she had “found” a crucial piece of evidence. Phryne shrugged at him, content with her statement and it’s reflection on her past choices.

Jack glanced at his watch, eyebrows raising at the time. “It’s after midnight. How much longer do you want to stay here?” He said, trying to be respectful of her time. He would have stayed with her to the early hours of the morning if she asked it of him.

She seemed surprised, not at the time, but at his suggestion of ending their evening. “Why? Aren’t you enjoying yourself?” she asked. She leaned into him, reaching across for something over his shoulder. Jack automatically leaned away, despite every part of his body protesting at him for adding distance between them.

She picked up a plate and, leaning back to her original position, said, “Try some of Dot’s cottage pie.” Phryne smouldered as she whipped the napkin off the plate to reveal a small, round pie.

Not quite sure what to say, Jack said the first thing that popped into his head, “Uh...do you have a fork?”

Phryne, amused by the question, shrugged impishly, “You’ll have to use your fingers.”

Jack was about to reply with something that could be considered flirtatious when the telephone rang. Phryne whipped her head around, listening. She made no move to get up and answer it.

The first logical explanation occurring to him, Jack said, “What if it’s Collins?”

Phryne softly shook her head in disagreement and said quietly, “It won’t be. It’s them, checking to see no one’s home.”

The phone rang for a few more minutes and then abruptly stopped, leaving a palpable silence in its wake.

“Well! It appears our burglar will be here soon. Better eat up to preserve your strength.” Phryne said, wiggling the plate back and forth in a tantalizing manner.

Jack smiled as he said, “Always the thoughtful one aren’t you, Miss Fisher..” Though slightly disappointed that there were no forks available, he nonetheless moved to start on the pie.

“Wait!” Phryne said, brandishing a napkin from the picnic basket. “Wouldn’t want to get your suit covered in pie now, would we.”

She reached over and tucked the napkin gently into his collar. The gesture was oddly intimate, a curious counterpoint to the more straightforward flush Jack felt around his neck when her fingers trailed against his exposed skin. She flattened his collar down again, skimming her hands down his shoulders for good measure.

“There! Now enjoy to your heart’s content,” Phryne said, holding out the pie once more.

Jack reached into the pie and managed to break off a piece. He tried to keep the filling contained in his hand as he placed the scoop he got into his mouth. It was one of the better ones he had eaten despite being a bit cold. The potatoes were buttery and yielded perfectly as he bit down. The the meat was browned to perfection, infused with the taste of the sauce and still moist on the inside. He had to close his eyes for a moment as he chewed. When he opened them, he saw that Phryne was watching him. He reached into the pie for another scoop, quietly resolving to stop by for dinner more often, or at least to invite Phryne out on an actual picnic in the near future.

As if reading his mind, Phryne said, “Dot does make a fabulous cottage pie, doesn’t she?” And then she did something extraordinary. 

Jack still held fragments of the pie in his hand, covering his fingers, and Phryne leaned over and took one of his fingers into her mouth, sucking it clean . It was one of the most sensuous things that had happened to Jack in recent memory. And it was made all the more so by the fact that Phryne looked him straight in the eye as she did it.

Jack sat silently mesmerized for a moment as Phryne straightened up and said, “Ah, yes. Just as good as I remembered.”

He looked away from her quickly, catching his breath and grappling with the unexpected rush of adrenaline. Jack was certainly not going to look at cottage pie the same again.

He placed the remaining pie in his mouth and then wiped his hand clean on the napkin around his neck. Clearing his throat he said, “So, what else do you have in there?”

Phryne smirked and said, “I should put you on rations.”

They heard movement upstairs, and both of them were immediately back on task, looking in the direction of the noise in unison.

“Visitors,” Phryne whispered.

Jack put down his flashlight and pulled the napkin from his throat. She turned to him as he said, “I’m going after them.”

Just as quickly, she said, “I’ll take the back stairs.”

Instead of arguing, he helped her to her feet, essentially pulling her into his arms due to the smallness of the space. He looked down at her, her big, dark eyes gazing up at him. He briefly wished they had a moment to properly enjoy this closet. Or that they were somewhere else entirely.

“Just...be careful,” he said, quietly turning the handle behind him, eyes never leaving Phryne’s face.

“Always,” she breathed and with a wink, she was gone.

***

After catching Genevieve and exposing her plot to the Fleuri sisters, bringing them together to save the salon, Jack thought he was done with the world of high fashion for good. But of course, Phryne had one more thing up her sleeve.

A few weeks after the case was closed, Jack received a small envelope at the station, written in Dot’s hand. It contained a simple invitation to the fashion show at House of Fleuri, relaunching the salon with both couture and prêt à porter designs.

As he was contemplating the invitation, there was a knock at his door and Collins entered.

“Inspector Robinson, sir, did you receive an invitation to the House of Fleuri event?” he asked. Jack nodded his assent.

“Were you...planning on attending, sir? It’s just that Dottie mentioned she was going to be modeling in it and I’d like to be there to support her, especially after the mess I’ve made this week what with not knowing the suit blouse color and the maid uniform thing…” Collins cleared his throat and continued in a more serious tone of voice, “But it’s during normal police hours and I shouldn’t go without you or your permission. Sir.”

His reason for receiving the invitation became all the more clear. Collaborating on cases with Phryne sometimes felt more like double dating. He knew he was supposed to be setting a professional example for the young constable but...

“Of course we can attend Collins. It’s...important for the police to be involved in their local communities,” he said wryly.

***

The salon was in top form, and many women from fashionable and rich households were present, gossiping about, sipping champagne. As Jack entered the part, he noted the miniature cottage pie hor d'oeuvres and promptly scooped one from a passing tray. He placed it in his mouth quickly, while attempting not to picture the last time he had eaten it or the feel of Phryne’s lips on his fingers. He was unsuccessful.

The show kicked off with Dot sailing down the runway in a prêt à porter evening gown. It was black made of a black sheer material with a cloak. It fit Dot very well and her clear happiness in her makeover lent her a charming glow. Jack turned to Hugh.

“What do you think, Collins?” he asked leadingly.

Collins, dopey smile on his face clearly dazzled but for once not incoherently so, replied, “Pretty as a picture, sir.” His face quickly turned serious. “Just between you and me though, please, sir. Decided it’s safer to keep my opinion to myself this time.”

Jack holding back a smile, nodded.

As Dot disappeared down the runway, the announcer said, “And next, in a classically elegant couture designed gown, Miss Phryne Fisher.”

Jack’s interest was piqued. This is why he was here after all - Phryne had wanted him to see her in this dress.

A slow smile spread across his lips as he saw her walk down the makeshift runway, an unconscious mimic of Collins’ adoring expression.

Phryne always dressed with care and elegance, but he never had an excuse to look this fully to appreciate it. He let his gaze linger as she walked toward the front of the room - toward him. She was wearing a ball gown he vaguely remembered from the design catalog - it hugged her curves in all the right places, and the beading in the front framed his view of her collarbones, a temptingly intimate view. He could imagine running his fingers along the lines, kissing under each one. It’s a shame it was only meant for evening wear. Perhaps their next case would require black tie.

Phryne searched the crowd and locked eyes with him as if to say, “What do you think?” As if she didn’t know she was the most beautiful woman in the room.

He smiled at her, nodding appreciatively. She smirked back at him and then turned to let him watch her go.

***

Phryne was _exhausted_. Who knew modeling could be such hard work? She was glad of one thing, though - it looked like many of the women there, rich and less so alike, were interested in the clothes, placing orders left and right. House de Fleuri may land on its feet again.

Phryne was halfway up the stairs, still wearing her beautiful bronze couture creation when there was a sudden knock at the door. Since it was almost ten in the evening, it could only be one person - Jack. Phryne shifted a little on the stair, double checking the gown to make sure it was at it’s best.

As Mr. Butler opened the door, Phryne strained to see if her suspicion was correct. Then she heard his voice.

“The police photographer’s finished with your necklace,” he said as he spotted her on the stairs..

“Didn’t suit his outfit?” Phryne replied as she descended back down a few stairs to stand eye to eye with him. She was pleased that Jack was here and that he got to see her in this dress again. 

He held the necklace out to her and she took it from his hands, letting the touch linger for a moment. Jack had such lovely skin - a little rough around the edges so you could tell he was a working man, but not so tough to be calloused. She had imagined his hands running over her body many times. She almost shivered in delight just thinking about it.

“I’ll never again dismiss the fashion world as frivolous. It all looks harmless enough, but you never know what lurks beneath.” He quirked his eyebrow at Miss Fisher.

Was Jack...was Jack Robinson flirting with her? He usually just accepted her advances with equanimity rather than reciprocating. Let’s see how far he takes this, Phryne thought.

“Usually lingerie,” Phryne replied, enjoying the banter.

To her surprise, Jack didn’t become embarrassed or try to escape the situation - he seemed to be relishing the conversation that was getting a bit more heated than his normal professional decorum allowed.

“Equally dangerous,” Jack said, almost seductively.

“And just one dress,” Phryne said, her hand subtly running up and down her body, “can be lethal.”

Phryne felt smug after that. He wouldn’t be able to out flirt _that_ comment. But then he did something completely unexpected - Jack ran his eyes up and down her figure.

Phryne was sure that Jack had looked at her before - she knew she was a good looking woman with a good taste for fashion - but he had never been this open, this obvious about it before. She liked the attention, basking in his gaze of admiration of her figure with just a hint of desire. He had finally let enough of his guard down for her to know, unequivocally, that Jack wanted her in _every_ possible way.

When his eyes steadily met with hers again, no shame in them for looking and dark with want, Phryne’s breath caught. That exchange had to be an invitation.

Abuzz with anticipation, Phryne whispered, “Nightcap?”

Jack seemed conflicted before he replied, “Perhaps another time, at a less dangerous hour, in a less lethal dress.” His eyes roved her again briefly before he strode out into the night.

Phryne, still poised on the stairs, was put out. She had thought this was the perfect opportunity to explore what was obviously sitting there between them. Why had he said no? Was he not ready? Did Jack think that he was just a “one night” kind of man to her? Nothing could be further from the  
truth.

Walking up the stairs to her bedroom, Phryne resolved to prove to Jack that he was one of the most important men in her life and that there was something between them worth exploring. In the meantime, however, there were other ways of exploring the rich fantasy playing out in Phryne’s mind, in which Jack had stayed for a nightcap afterall.


End file.
